


Almost But Not Quite

by serenbach



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Canon character deaths, Canon-Compliant Battle of Five Armies, F/F, accidental meetings, second love, self-sacrifice runs in the line of durin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 18:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8926942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenbach/pseuds/serenbach
Summary: Dis never forgets her accidental meeting with a young hobbit, even after all the years that go by since then.But she has her family, her duty to her people, her home, and has no time to seek out love for a second time.Besides, everyone knows that dwarves only love once.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [octopus_fool](https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopus_fool/gifts).



> You said you wouldn't mind an angsty story with an unhappy ending, so, uh, happy hobbit holiday!

Their first meeting stuck out in her memory for more than one reason.

Dis lay in a ditch in the side of the road, swearing profusely as she tried to push herself up in a way that didn’t involve pressing against some very unpleasant stinging plants and thorny vines when a stranger’s head appeared over the edge of the ditch, looking down at her in concern.  

“Oh dear,” she said, her voice friendly, though rather worried. “Are you alright?”

Dis bit back the urge to respond to the genuine concern with a sarcastic comment. “My pony threw me,” she admitted grouchily, taking the helping hand that was offered to her.

She half expected to drag her tiny helper into the ditch with her, but between the two of them they managed to detangle her from the thorns and get her back on the road.

“Thank you,” Dis said, wincing as she brushed herself down, the stings and grazes on her hands catching against the fabric of her clothes.

Her companion hissed in sympathy. “Looks like you landed in some nettles.” She scampered a short way down the path and picked some broad, green leaves, and offered them to Dis. “Press these against the stings,” she urged, “it should help.”

Dis did so with one hand, the other soothing her repentant pony, who had trotted over to snuffle apologetically at her hair. As she did so, she studied her unexpected rescuer.

Dis had seen enough hobbits on her travels along the Great East Road to recognise one, but she had never spoken to one. The hobbits of the Shire were simultaneously shy and suspicious of the dwarven caravans that passed through their lands.

The hobbit seemed young, certainly younger than Dis’ sons - at least in years, since she was old enough to be out and about unaccompanied by her own peoples’ standards – and was dressed for travel in fine yet sturdy trousers, shirt and jacket, although the length of the trousers and the lack of shoes seemed odd to Dis’ eyes. She was wearing a broad-brimmed straw hat, and her long blond curls looked like they had started the day neatly pinned up underneath the hat, but they were now falling free down her back.       

This hobbit didn’t seem afraid of her, and was in fact observing her with interest.

“I’m Belladonna Took,” the hobbit said, bobbing a small curtsy. “At your service.”

“Dis,” she answered briefly, with a small, polite nod.

Belladonna smiled. “Nice to meet you, Master Dis.”

Dis didn’t correct the title. Like most dwarf women, she found it easier to pass as male among the other races, especially when she was travelling alone. It was far better than dealing with the assumptions and crude speculations that tended to be thrown about, otherwise.

“Are you badly hurt?” Belladonna asked, studying her up and down.

“Just my pride,” Dis answered, and the hobbit laughed. “And my clothes.”

“Well, I’m sure the first will survive – I won’t tell anyone! And as for the second, here you go.” Belladonna handed her a handkerchief.

Dis dabbed ineffectually at her mud-splattered clothes before trying to hand her the handkerchief back, but Belladonna made a ‘keep it’ gesture so Dis stashed it in her pocket.

“What are you doing outside the Shire?” she asked instead. “Are you lost?” For all that they were not far from the boarders, Dis had never seen a hobbit outside of the Shire, or Bree.

Belladonna grinned mischievously. “Not at all! I’m been on an adventure! My last one before I’m married.”  

Dis raised an eyebrow. She would not have thought the hobbit old enough marry. “Your intended is not the adventuring sort, I take it?” she asked.

Belladonna laughed, but there was nothing mean or mocking about it. “Certainly not, he is perfectly respectable.” Her face was soft. “He’s like… coming in from the cold and sitting in front of a warm fire.” She sighed, and then seemed to remember that she was talking to a stranger, and blushed. “Although I suppose that doesn’t sound very romantic.”

“It sounds perfect,” Dis said honestly. She remembered that warmth well from her own husband, and remembered how cold it felt after Azanulbizar, when he did not come back to her.

Belladonna seemed to notice her sudden introspection, and her expression became concerned again.

“I wish you every happiness,” Dis said quickly, and Belladonna grinned again, distracted, happy and bright.

“Thank you - and to you as well, Master Dwarf,” she replied.

“Mistress Dwarf,” Dis said, surprising herself. She would not usually disclose that to a stranger from another race, because she would not trust a stranger from another race.

But she trusted this young hobbit who she had met by chance.

“Mistress Dis,” Belladonna repeated, not embarrassed or awkward at the correction, almost as if she knew in some way that it was a sign of trust.

As they parted, the hobbit towards the Shire, and Dis towards Bree, Belladonna smiled at her again, and somehow that smile never faded from Dis’ memory.

 ---

They met a second time in the markets of Michael Delving, eight years later.

Dis had volunteered to accompany this caravan to sell her goods, while her brother spent some quality time with her sons. She had wondered, in a vague way, if she would see Belladonna Took again, but tried to dismiss the thought from her mind. Just because she was going to the Shire didn’t mean that she would see one particular hobbit who probably wouldn’t even remember her.

There was no reason for her to be so impatient with anticipation over something that was probably never going to happen.

But when she looked up from her stall to see a familiar smile, something jolted inside her with surprise, and pleasure.

“Mistress Dis,” Belladonna said, her voice low and pleased. “It’s good to see you again.”

“And you, Mistress Took,” Dis replied, only for Belladonna to interrupt with a laugh.

“It’s Mrs. Baggins now,” she said brightly, “but old friends can call me Bella.”

“Then you must call me Dis,” she said firmly, studying her closely. Bella was wearing a fancy dress, her hair tied in an elaborate bun on the top of her head. She looked pretty and content, and Dis smiled to see her so.

Bella stayed at her stall for some time, as they idly talked. She pointed out which one of the young hobbits running around was hers, and Dis told her stories of her own two sons, still troublemakers, as old as they were.

Eventually, Bella sighed. “It’s almost dinner time,” she said apologetically. “My husband will be waiting, and Bilbo will be getting hungry.”

Dis nodded, accepting even as she was reluctant to say farewell.

“Do you wish to join us?” Bella asked, and Dis hesitated, reluctant both to say yes and no.

“We’ll be moving on soon,” Dis explained, and Bella seemed disappointed even as she understood.

But as she started to move away, Bella’s eye was caught by something on the stall, a little glass charm that Dis had made herself, one meant to bring good fortune and happiness in the home where it was hung.

“Here,” she said, impulsively, “take it.” She pressed the charm into Bella’s hand, ignoring her protests. “It’s only fair, after all, I still have your handkerchief.”

She did, in the locked box where she kept the few mementoes of her mother that had not been sold in the year since Erebor fell, gifts from her brothers, her marriage-beads and small things that her sons had made for her as they learned their crafts. She had never questioned why a plain cotton, mud-stained handkerchief given to her by a stranger had found its way into her stash of personal treasures.

Bella clutched it protectively against her chest as they said farewell, and Dis found great comfort thinking of it hanging up in Bella’s home as she travelled the long journey home.

\---    

The last time they saw each other should not have been the last time, although Dis didn’t realise that until later. They met again as Dis travelled through the Shire, and this time, Dis did not turn down her invitation to stay.

This time though, much had changed for Belladonna. Her husband had died, and Dis hurt to think of her going through such pain, though it had been some time since it had happened, long enough for sharp pain to fade to a dull ache, something Dis knew far too well.

Her son was staying with her family in somewhere called the Great Smials while Belladonna planned his coming-of-age party. (“He’ll be sorry to have missed you!”)

“Can you believe that it has been almost thirty-three years since we first met,” Belladonna exclaimed, heaping platters of food in front of Dis, who stared in amazement. “It feels just like yesterday, and yet this is the first time I’ve cooked for you!”

“Thirty-three years is not that long for dwarves,” Dis explained as she dug into the feast. “Our friendships do not fade despite time and distance.”

“That’s lovely,” Bella sighed, smiling at her.

When Dis looked back, she realised that those few days they spent together in Bag End were some of the happiest times in her life. Their relationship, which had been close despite spending so little time together, only grew closer, as did they. She and Bella started off sitting in armchairs on opposite sides of the room, then on the comfy sofa next to each other.

It wasn’t as much of a surprise as it should have been, when one night Bella took her hand, and Dis drew her close to kiss her.

It was perfect, everything that Dis did not know that she wanted, and she still drew away.

“Dis?” Bella asked, her eyes wide and pleasantly flushed.

“Is this common among hobbits?” Dis asked uncertainly. “To feel… like this for someone else after the death of a spouse?”

Bella’s expression turned very gentle. “It’s not common, no,” she answered. “Hobbits don’t often have lives touched by tragedy. But when we do, no-one begrudges us if we find joy again.”

It sounded so easy, and Dis knew that if she stayed, she would find joy, here with Bella and her son. Perhaps her sons would join them, maybe even her brother. They could have a full, happy life, all together in Bag End, and Dis _wanted_ it.

She wanted this warmth that she had felt inside since the first time she had met Bella, even though she hadn’t known it, wanted to let it kindle into a full burning fire.

She hadn’t known she could feel like this again.

But, she knew that it was impossible. Her sons would probably follow her, but Fili, at least, would feel torn between his love for her and his duties as heir. Her brother would never come to the Shire, he was too focused on what they had lost, and she had responsibilities towards her people in both the West and East.

It was impossible, and she would only hurt Bella if she carried on. So she drew back, and Bella let her, rueful, but understanding.

Dis left the next morning, despite Bella’s protests, and ignored how much it hurt.

After all, dwarves loved only One, and she’d had hers. The flickering heat in her heart must be wrong.

\---   

Erebor was reclaimed, but it did not feel like home, not with what it cost her.

Dis sat in Balin’s office, reading the letter that he had shown her. When she had found out that the hobbit who had joined her brother’s company was none other than Bilbo Baggins, she had asked Balin to send him a letter, enquiring about his mother.

(“Bilbo didn’t talk about his parents much, aside from some of his father’s sayings,” Balin had told her, his eyes sharp, probably seeing more than she had intended. “But he was all alone in that big house of his.”)

_… and how strange that Thorin’s sister should have known my mother. I hope she will not be too grieved to learn that she died some time ago. I remember my mother telling me stories about a dwarven friend who had made her a good luck charm, but I confess I thought it was just one of the stories she used to make up to entertain me!_

_You may remember that when I returned home, all of my belongings had been auctioned off. Well, after some trouble in getting it all back, it turned out I had some belongings I did not know I owned, and among them I found an unopened envelope addressed to a Dis. I have still not read the contents, but I have enclosed it with this letter…_

Dis hesitated for a long moment. Part of her had known that she must have died, the fire within her, even banked and ignored, had been missing when she woke one day.

She’d felt it before, when her husband died. She’d never thought to feel it again. It was only at this confirmed loss that she truly accepted that Bella was her One, her second One, and she didn’t know if she could bear to read her last words.

But she had borne so much this year already. She carefully opened the envelope and read the cheerful, loopy handwriting.

 _My dear Dis,_   

_I apologise for any discomfort that I may have caused you. For all that I feel very close to you, I know that our peoples are very different. I hope you know that whatever else I feel for you, I am always your friend, first of all._

_I’ll send this along to the Blue Mountains as soon as I find a caravan or traveller going that way, and I’ll hope to see you again soon!_

_I’ve enclosed this gift in memory of our first meeting._

_I hope that you find your joy again._

_Yours always,_

_Bella._

The handkerchief was embroidered with leafy vines, and Dis laughed to herself even as she used it to dab her tears away.

Joy seemed so far off, but she would find it – for her husband’s sake, and for Thorin’s, and in memory of her sons.

And for Bella. 

    

**Author's Note:**

> Try not to think too hard about the time line in this one!


End file.
